Perfect
by KittyBits
Summary: AU. Spencer played lead guitar in a famous American rock band, he really ought to be happy, right? But no, Spencer despaired everyday as he watched perfection treat him like the best friend he wished he weren't. Companion piece to Imperfect. SLASH M/R


**Author's Note: **School starts back up tomorrow and I haven't studied for my first lectures because this thing occurred to me. It's very inspired by a Twiligt Jasper/Edward fic I read on Twilighted months ago, but I couldn't find it when I last checked and it sucks because it was way better than this piece will ever be. But if you find the plot eerily familiar it's because it's kind of a tribute. But I really thought this fandom lacked some band-fics. So there.

**Disclaimer: **No own. But my Gubler-flu t-shirt just arrived at the post office this Friday so my friend is going to pick it up for me tomorrow while I'm at classes! Say woooot!

- Music -

All lights in the stadium turned off and the crowd fell into a breathless silence. Emily gave Spencer a firm good luck pat on his butt before walking across the dark as night scene to the microphone stand in front. Spencer smiled after her and played the opening chord.

The crowd exploded.

It always took less than two songs before Spencer's bangs were dripping with sweat and this time weren't any different. The crowd screamed, sang along, begged for more. Emily's soft voice sang about heartbreak and break-ups and angry rants at boyfriends and society as one. Spencer made the guitar alternately scream hi wailed screams of pain and weep as The Beatles had sung about back in the days. Next to him Aaron added depth to the music, his talented fingers playing the strings of the bass with an ease that made people breathless. Derek sat behind all of them, thumping the drums like there were no tomorrow, sweat surely running in rivulets down his muscular back under his thinly worn t-shirt.

This time weren't any different from all the others.

Step on stage and deliver.

Have fun.

Rossi stood in the darkness beside the scene and tapped the beat with on finger on his crossed arms. Beside him Jennifer, who demanded to be called JJ, was busy talking into her headset – probably instructing some poor scene-hand somewhere to fix the strobe lights or make sure the dressing rooms were stocked with the right brand mineral water.

Spencer had honestly no idea what her job was, but according to Rossi she was the best at it.

"_You took everything I offered_

_And still I gave you more_," Emily sang and Spencer let his hand still so Emily could cry out the following words along with the crowds in otherwise musical silence.

"_And now I can't remember_

_How to stop."_

Just like all the other times. Nothing was different. Nothing. Everything. Spencer knew they were somewhere in Los Angeles, the warmth was proof of that. He didn't know where and probably wouldn't find out later. He stopped keeping tabs on where they went by their third tour, were all the new sights and impressions started to blur together, giving him migraines that would last for entires bus drives.

Now he just went along like the rest of the band, and let Rossi and Penelope, his assistant, do their thing. It was the easiest way to make it work.

The band made a brief appearance at the afterparty and Spencer had to excuse himself as the first when two female fans got a bit too handsy and he blushed like nobody's business, which only made the women more eager. He told JJ he would be in his hotel room and she nodded and told him he had played a good show before enveloping him in a hug and sending him off with a soft smile.

He had once had a crush on her. Way back when he had just joined the band and they were starting to popularity and went on their first tour. He was younger than her, younger than all his band mates, but she was sweet and stable and never stopped him when he went on one of his rambles about some Discovery documentary he had watched the evening before. Then he met her fiancé, Will, and the crush kinda faded.

After JJ he had had a brief affair with an actress called Lila, which gained the band some more publicity but they ended it when his budding career really took off and she started receiving hate mail on a daily basis.

Spencer didn't know how to handle that, and the experience shook him so thoroughly that he never dated again.

Or so the magazines and the bloggers and all the other people who loved to talk about the rock scene's new darlings would say. Even if they weren't as new as they had been five years ago when he and Lila ended things between them.

In secret Spencer admitted to himself and Emily that he just wasn't interested in anyone after Lila. His interest in her hadn't even been that intense to begin with either.

The truth was that Spencer just wanted to focus on his musical career, to make the most of it while it lasted and write himself and his friends into the into the musical history.

The truth was that Spencer had expected to become a doctor or a mathematician and that it was all Emily's fault he had been thrown into a life of fame and drugs and that he still found it hard not to fix again, even after three years. It was her that came barging into his apartment, drunk and desperate to find a new lead guitarist when Jason had left her, Aaron and Derek. He had been playing whatever occurred to him, and the swaying rambling woman had surprised him enough for him to agree to come to a jamming session with her band.

It was all the truth, but Spencer was a liar, because he knew the real, the _actual_ reason. And that reason was always right behind him, thumping the drums like they had done something to deserve a beating. That reason was all smooth mocha skin and bulging muscles. He was all wide smiles and flirty comments. He was all about the fame and the ladies and the beat. He was Derek and completely and utterly out of Spencer's league. Spencer knew and it was making him sick to his stomach, even as he arrived at his hotel room after a four minute limo drive and came up to his room where he could close the door and sit in the dark alone.

Everything was the same except for the small fact that he was slowly but steadily falling apart. His one true love took woman after woman back to his room and Spencer himself could only lie on his bed alone and touch himself as he wondered what it felt like for all those women who so easily got what he dreamed off.

That night wasn't any different.

- With -

Spencer was woken by an insistent knocking and a brief look at his watch told him it was only twenty past four. He laid back with closed eyes and tried to remember if he had been told to be ready earlier than normal.

He hadn't, he was positive.

Another knock made him groan and ever so slowly swing his legs over the side of his bed. If this was one of the hotel's staff who had discovered who he was he was going to have them fired,he didn't care that he had an image to keep up – no one messed with his sleep.

He huffed when a third knock sounded and he pulled the door open only to have a hand continue in a fourth, missing his face with only a few inches.

"Sorry, man." Spencer couldn't breathe. "I'm wasted. Can I sleep here?" Derek pushed past him before he could reply and he just stood and stared at the spot where Derek had been just moments before and wondered if this was some sort of nightmare or maybe a test sent to him by some evil deity.

He knew that it had to be his bad luck causing it, but sometimes it was just too overwhelming to accept that there wasn't someone who was effectively trying to ruin his life.

"Your bed is really nice, dude," Derek said in tone of voice resembling a purr and Spencer turned around to see his friend and object if hopeless affections snuggle into the pillows he had been resting on before. "Smells like you."

"Why are you here?" Spencer asked and tried to ignore the burst of emotion when he realized Derek recognized his smell. Which he would, of course, as they spent practically every waking moment together and with Emily and Aaron.

"Can't find my own room," Derek complained and dragged the covers over his body. Spencer realized with a pang of disgust that Derek was still wearing his big combat boots. Spencer admitted to finding the boots very attractive on his friend, but not so much when the smeared dirt on his sheets, even if they were only hotel sheets and he wouldn't have to sleep in them again.

Ever probably.

"But you could find mine?" he asked instead of commenting on Derek's careless behavior.

"I can always find you," Derek muttered into the pillow and flopped onto his side so he could fix Spencer with a droopy grin. "You're my best friend, Pretty Boy."

"I return the sentiment," Spencer said and tried desperately not to blush. "But it doesn't really make sense that you can find my room but not yours."

"Nothing... makes sense," Derek said slowly, his words growing more slurred, more unintelligible by the syllable. Heavy breathing told Spencer he had fallen asleep.

Spencer rubbed his hands over his face and sunk down to a crouching position, his back pressed firmly against the door behind him.

"Shit," he swore to quiet room. He couldn't go back to bed and he didn't know where Derek's room was or where he kept his key card. It was probably on his person somewhere, but Spencer didn't really feel comfortable with touching the sleeping figure. He might disturb him, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He stayed against the door until his thighs started to ache. When he stood he could see Derek, now lying on his back, right arms stretched out as if searching for something while the left clutched the cover to his chest. His face looked peaceful.

It ached in Spencer's chest. He wanted to reach out and touch Derek's cheek, it looked so smooth from where Spencer was standing.

He moved closer to the bed and stopped right next to it, watching the rise and fall of Derek's chest. The stubble adorning his cheeks. His tank top left little to imagination but Spencer was certain his imagination could never come up with anything as beautiful as the man in front of him.

Derek was perfect. Or to Spencer he was anyway. The curve of his neck, the sound of his voice. It excited him to be right beside him and seeing his as vulnerable as he was in sleep. Nothing was more precious to Spencer than Derek being so comfortable with him.

Some part of him hated their situation. That he had to spend every waking our in Derek's close proximity and act like it didn't affect him. But Spencer was a complete coward so his cowardice and worry for the consequences kept him from confessing his feelings. It would be more than awkward for all the others, and themselves, if Derek didn't return Spencer's feelings. It would ruin the otherwise relaxed atmosphere in the tour bus. In the band.

If Spencer confessing his attraction and love-like emotions for Derek ended with rejection everything they in the band had worked towards for more than seven years would be at risk. Their dream would so easily be shattered and ruined.

Spencer never let himself think of what would happen if Derek in fact returned his affection. That outcome was so unlikely his poor imagination wasn't nearly strong enough to go there. And he really treasured their friendship.

He turned his back on his sleeping friend and walked to the couch where he lied down and tentatively closed his eyes. Sleep seemed to avoid him, he concluded after twelve and a half minute of silent meditation. Having Derek in the room, albeit asleep, made it impossible for Spencer to relax.

It was impossible to close out the sound of Derek's steady breathing and Spencer found that he liked listening to it too much to really giving sleeping an honest try. It made his body hum in pleasure to be in the same room with Derek.

Spencer sat back up. Next to the phone on the table in front of him was a notepad and a pen. He supposed it was a feature the hotel provided and after finding a comfortable sitting position in the couch with his feet tucked in underneath him he reached for the pad and pen.

He started doodling. Quickly the circles became eyes, a nose, a mouth, eyebrows he couldn't quite get right. He circled the features and decided they didn't do Derek any justice. One wouldn't be able to see it was him if they didn't already know. Spencer ripped the paper off and crumbled it into a ball. He chucked it at the trashcan and grumbled when he missed it by several inches.

Drawing had never been one of his strong points. Not like mathematics and playing the guitar. And paraphrasing when he used words too intellectual for people to understand.

He supposed words was one of his strong points too. Not as much as Emily, who managed to capture not only her emotions ans thoughts but the emotions and thoughts of several thousand others too in every line in her lyrics.

But he could write too, he wrote letters to his mother – once every week, summing up how he was and how it was going with the band. He had written scientific articles during his brief stay at MIT when the band took a break between their second and third tour. The students had never really gotten used to seeing a celebrity in their midst and Spencer didn't feel the urge to return to the curious looks when the band finished their third tour.

He had never written songs though. He hadn't even tried. Once he tried to compose a melody, but the flow was mechanical and not as fluid as the ones Aaron scribbled down on napkins when they ate at some random diner during the long drives in the bus. His music couldn't even compare with the rhythm-dominated songs Derek had contributed with, and even Spencer knew how simple melodies those were.

He had never thought about it before, but suddenly Spencer was curious as to how he would fare at writing lyrics. If he made something decent he could probably convince Aaron to write a melody to go with them. It would be odd to play a song of his making on the stage in front of thousands of fans.

It would be an experience.

He kind of wanted to try it.

His head was completely devoid of thoughts but still, when he put the tip of the pen to the paper, it started moving, dancing across the small page in lines forming letter after letter, writing down what he never had the courage to say out loud. He cold almost hear Emily's voice croon the words, whisper passages and belting others over the soft pull of guitar strings.

He felt the song. With every word, with every beat of his heart he poured the truth down in front of him for everyone to see, stopping at times to stare at what he had written with wonder. He wrote till he had five pages of verses and then he began cutting down. Crossing out, rephrasing, moving lines around. He shortened and shortened till only the most important was left. The most vital parts and points.

Then he was left sitting with a few pages in his hand and an empty feeling in his chest. He felt surprisingly exhausted.

A thrill noise made him jump in shock.

His cell phone.

He almost jumped across the room and wrestled the noisy contraption out of his long since abandoned pair of show pants, a black pair of jeans he literally needed assistance to button, all the while shooting Derek glances, worried that he might wake up from the noise.

"Hello?" he asked in a breathless whisper when he finally managed to silence the horribly shrill rendition of Mozart's fourteenth piano sonata.

"Spencer?" a frantic, female voice sounded.

"Penelope?"

"Have you seen Derek? I went to his room to wake him up but he never answered and when I got the cleaning lady to open up for me he wasn't in his room! I have no idea where he is and Rossi is going to kill me, he told me to keep an eye on him – he was acting really odd last night – and now I've actually _lost _him! Spencer, I don't know what to do!" Penelope let out a heartbroken sob, finally giving Spencer the needed room to answer.

"He's in my room," he said and frowned when all sound on the other end of the line came to an abrupt halt. "Penelope?"

"He's at _your_ room? I'm going to kill him – why is he in your room? He has a perfectly nice room on his own, it sure as hell is nicer than mine was!"

"He showed up-"

"Drunker than a skunk?"

"I wasn't aware that skunks got drunk. Or that they were able to reach that level of inebriation. But he was drunker than I ever saw him before at the very least."

"Derek Morgan, you stupid chocolate Adonis," Spencer thought he heard Penelope say but it didn't make sense so he dismissed it.

"You got a cleaning lady to open up his room for you?"

"What? No..."

"He said he couldn't find his own room." Spencer said with a fond shake of head. Penelope had always been very fond of Derek who delighted in the flirtatious banter she initiated. Spencer shared her fondness and liked her for the easy air she kept while silently detesting her for being able to call Derek things like 'Love God' and 'Being of Utter Perfection' without anyone raising an eyebrow.

"But he could find yours?" Penelope harrumphed. "Of course he could, that useless piece of incredibly fine ass. He is so going to pay for this. Tell him I got his things and make sure he comes with you downstairs. We're meeting in the foyer in five." The line cut with a firm click but Spencer was too stressed by the time to notice Penelope's impolite behavior.

"Spencer?" He jumped in fright and turned to face a tired-looking Derek. "Why am I in your room? And why do I feel so crappy?"

"You got drunk," Spencer said and quickly turned back around to try and gather all the loose pages where he had poured his heart out. "You couldn't find your own room so you woke me up and stole me bed. We're meeting with the others in the foyer in four minutes and twenty seven seconds. Penelope is going to hurt you – she got worried when she couldn't find you in your room. She has your things."

"Shit." Derek scrambled off the bed just as Spencer shoved the last few pages into a pocket in his trousers. "She's going to have my balls off if we don't run like the wind down there!"

Spencer nodded and grabbed the bag he kept his change of clothes and clean underwear in and secretly called his go-bag and rushed out the door after his friend. He followed behind him to the elevator, where Derek was pushing the down button frantically while Spencer took half a second to admire the way the denim of Derek's jeans hugged his behind.

The trip down was silent and the atmosphere was heavy.

"I overslept," Spencer felt the urge to explain when the silence was moments away from actually strangling him.

"No sweat, man," Derek said absentmindedly as he watched the numbers shift down through their twenties. "I kicked you out of bed – it's all my fault." He graced Spencer with a brief and tired smile before fixing his eyes back on the digital numbers, now flickering through the teens.

Spencer opted not to say any more, but still let out a relieved breath when they arrive at the first floor and the door slid open.

"DEREK!" Derek shuffled over to the seething Penelope with his head bent in shame and Spencer followed the pair outside, where the tour bus was waiting for them. Inside he took his usual spot across from Emily who looked up from her book to fix him with a tired smile.

"What are you reading?" Spencer asked and toed off his Converse.

"Mike's autobiography," she said and held up the book so Spencer could have a look at the cover.

"I thought you guys broke up?"

"We did." Her smile turned sad and Spencer wanted to do something to sooth her pain but couldn't imagine anything he could do that would actually work.

"I'm sorry," he settled on muttering and Emily shrugged and resumed reading her book and Spencer pulled his feet up on the seat beside and hugged his knees to his chest. Across the aisle Aaron sat with several sheet of note paper in front of him as he jotted down ideas and Derek had already fallen back asleep with a half full bottle of coke in his hand.

An hour into the drive Spencer decided that he could smell himself a little too much and went to the back of the bus to do a bit of washing in sink in the minuscule bathroom. After casting a careful look back, Spencer stripped of his shirt and put it on the seat just outside the bathroom. After a moment of contemplating, he started pulling all his pages of late night writing up, hiding them underneath the shirt. He knew he was procrastinating, but he really didn't know what to do with his 'song' and all the discarded verses. It felt wrong to just flush them out, plus the bus driver might start asking questions if he noticed.

His previous want to share the song on stage had disappeared when he realized how personal the lyrics was. When he recalled the lines he doubted he would ever share them with anyone at all.

He did a quick washing up but didn't want to leave the room when he finished. Spencer in the mirror stared back at him, the questions in his eyes returned at him unanswered. He smelt better but didn't feel any different.

Nothing was different. The feeling of light emptiness he had experienced back in the hotel room had disappeared sometime during his and Derek's flight for the foyer and all Spencer could detect as he looked at the dark rings under his eyes was a bone deep tiredness and the usual heartache.

But at least Derek hadn't brought yet another woman to his bedroom the night before.

Eureka.

Spencer splashed some water in his face and dried it on a clean smelling and surprisingly soft towel before unlocking the door and stepping back outside.

"Did you write these?"

Spencer jumped and his eyes widened in horror as he took in the figure on the seat, holding all the loose pages while wearing a look of amazement.

"Emily," he croaked and the woman's eyes widened in a mirror look of his.

"You did!"

"Spence, gosh you look like shit – did you get any sleep at all last night?" Spencer gave Emily what he hoped she would recognize as a warning look and turned his attention to JJ, the only person in the entire world to refer to him as Spence.

"And hour or two I think. Derek didn't leave any room for me on the bed and the couch wasn't as comfortable as it looked."

"I heard what he did and I feel so sorry for you," JJ said with a sympathetic look. "And still he's the one sitting in his seat, completely dead to the world."

"I didn't have time to take a shower. I must have dozed off for half an hour this morning." Spencer could feel Emily's eyes on him and fought the urge to do something telling like pull at his bangs, which he always did when he was nervous.

"You're just having a really sucky day, huh?" JJ smiled and patted Spencer comfortingly on his shoulder. Then she turned to Emily. "Were you waiting for the bathroom?"

"No, I was waiting for Spencer, go ahead." JJ smiled her gratitude and entered the bathroom. As soon as the door clicked closed Emily pulled Spencer closer by the arm. "This is about _Derek_?" she whispered incredulously.

Spencer could only nod in reply, his eyes falling to the ground in defeat.

"You have to sing it to him," Emily whispered frantically and Spencer met her gaze.

"I can't do that! For several reasons, including but not limiting to the fact that I never sing lead and that he is a man and so am I and he straighter than an arrow with a greater track record than Robin Hood." Spencer grabbed her arm and begged with his eyes. "Please, don't make me do that. Never that!"

Emily eyed him carefully, before slowly nodding. "Alright, you don't have to sing it," she eventually admitted. "But these are really good lyrics, someone ought to sing them."

"Emily, please," Spencer whispered.

"No. I'm going to ask Aaron to do his thing and give these lyrics beautiful music to go with and I'm going to sing it and you're going to sing back-up and it'll almost be like you're singing it but still you aren't, and he'll never know if you don't-" JJ emerging from the bathroom made Emily fall silent and the blonde gave the other a pair a confused smile before walking back to the seating area. "We are going to sing this, I don't care if I have your cooperation or not but I'll prefer to have it. Alright?"

"No," Spencer muttered, but Emily's furious glare made him sigh. "Fine," he whispered and shrugged her grip on his arm off. "But we aren't telling anyone I wrote this, okay?"

"Sure," Emily said and pocketed the pages before following the same path JJ had just walked.

Spencer clenched his jaw and pulled a clean shirt on.

JJ had been more correct than she would ever know, he mused as he fought his way down the bus as it took a sharp left turn. His day was extraordinarily 'sucky'.

And when he dropped back into his seat it got just a fraction worse.

"Hey, Aaron," Emily said and carefully avoided looking at Spencer. "This friend of mine sent me some lyrics that really deserves to become a full song-"

"Just give me the lyrics and I'll see what I can do." Emily smiled brightly and started pulling pages from the pocket in her jeans. A smile fluttered across Aaron's face but was gone in an instant as he pulled himself back into his stoic persona. Spencer only noticed because he was too mad to look at Emily. He cataloged the reaction for later analysis.

"Here's the first verse," she said and picked out one of the pages in the small stack she was flipping through. "Here's the second-"

"Third," Spencer corrected before he could stop himself and Emily smirked.

"Sorry, that's the third verse, here's the second and the chorus. It's kinda brief and simple so don't overdo it – but it would mean a lot to... my friend."

Spencer hated the looks Emily and Aaron shared and turned his back to them in protest.

His day was beyond awful.

- Rocks -

"And finally the time came for me to welcome one of the greatest, if not _the_ greatest rock band playing today, _Profile_. Welcome to you, Emily, Spencer, Derek, and Hotch."

"Thank you," the band said together and smiled at the beaming radio host.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I've been looking forward to this moment ever since I was told I got to interview you guys, I'm almost as big a fan of you as our listeners."

"We're flattered," Emily said and beamed back. "And we really do have the most dedicated fans."

"And quite a variety too. I found this survey in Music Today that showed the demographic groups your fans consist of. Now, I don't think many will be surprised that you have a lot of male fans, but this survey shows that practically more than half not only of the ages thirteen to twenty_ but also among the thirty to forty year-olds_ listed you as their favorite band, how does that make you feel?"

"It's nice," Hotch said. "But we don't think about demographics when we write our music. We play what we enjoy and hope that our fans will like it too."

"You also have a great amount of fans of the female persuasion," the host continued. Spencer was annoyed with him, he kept stealing looks of Emily's cleavage and he could see Hotch grow tenser beside him with every poorly hidden glance. "How come you have so many different fans?"

"Because we're pleasing in so many ways," Derek replied. It was always easy to answer questions in interviews as the questions were pre-approved and they had made plans for who would answer which and with what. Not that Spencer felt very comfortable with this exact response. "Besides our awesome music, we've got the smoking hot female lead, Hotch who's all silent and serious but has a son and is actually the one of us who has the best sense of humor. And then there's Pretty Boy over there, who melts all those teenage girl hearts with a single look from his amber eyes. That's what my friend told me anyway." The radio host and Emily laughed but Hotch was too busy throwing daggers at the host and Spencer was blushing too much to utter a sound. "And then, of course, there's me. With the big bulging muscles and the flirting smile. My friend told me that too."

"What Derek is trying to say," Spencer interrupted the laughter, "is that our very different personal styles appeal to very different demographics."

"Thank you," the host said and Derek nudged Spencer in the side which he succesfully ignored, besides his heart who chose to skip a beat. "Now, you're on tour right now-"

"We have our last concert tomorrow night," Aaron clarified and managed to draw the host's eyes from Emily's breasts.

"Yes, and you have received the most amazing reviews, but when you're being completely honest, what is it like to be on the road for so long?"

"It's tough," Emily said and Spencer and the other men gave affirming murmurs. "We miss our families and our friends back home and it's really not that funny to rub against three men for so long at the time – sometimes I get the urge to go to the bathroom just to see if I've started growing hair on my chest from being in the presence of all the testosterone."

"And Hotch, since your wife died you've been bringing up your son all on you own, what's it like to be away from him for months at the time?"

"I think it's goes without saying that it's horrible," Aaron said through clenched teeth. The question hadn't been approved of before but it was poor conduct to stop the interview during. The other band members straightened in the seat in alarm of what might come after from the radio host suddenly going 'rogue'. "I call him every night before our show and Skype with him whenever I can."

"Derek, what do you do to keep in contact with your family?"

"I phone them. Even when we aren't on tour I don't see them very often because they live in a different state, but we've always been good at phoning with regular intervals. It's almost the same with Spencer, except he writes letters instead of calling." Derek shot Spencer an apologetic glance when he realized he had said too much, but Spencer shook his head in dismissal.

"You write your family letters, Spencer?" the host asked, with the facial expression of a shark smelling blood.

"Yes," Spencer replied and crossed his arms over his chest. The host obviously wanted him to tell more but he kept stubbornly silent.

"Alright," the host said, finally catching up to the slightly hostile atmosphere. "Our fans has been writing and calling in with questions all week, so I thought you might have time to answer two or three of them before we end this?"

"Sure, ask away," Emily said with a strained smile. "But we can't promise that we'll answer."

"Of course not," the man said and shuffled through some papers on the table in front of him. "Now, I think it goes without saying that about a third of all the e-mails we've gotten are wedding proposals for you Spencer-"

"I can't accept, I'm afraid," he replied quickly.

"As I thought," the host said and tried a charming smile. "But rumor has it that you haven't dated anyone since you and Lila Archer ended your relationship five years ago, and now that she's engaged it's all a lot of people talk about." Spencer looked at the host, waiting for the question to pop up, but the host just looked back with a friendly, but curious look.

"Well," Spencer said when the silence grew odd. "I suppose for once the rumors are true."

"So there's no romantic interest?"

"No, I'm not in a relationship with anyone." The host let it go, but not before narrowing his eyes at Spencer who was careful not to look at any of the other band members.

"Alright, then. Emily," the host continued and Spencer stopped paying attention to the people around him and closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply and slowly.

Stupid, stupid radio host. Stupid teenage girls. Stupid questions and wedding proposals.

A heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder and started kneading his tense muscles and Spencer flashed Derek a brief but grateful smile. The host was still busy talking with Emily while every so often glancing down at her breasts while Aaron not so discreetly glared at the host, with the 'Hotch Look Of Doom' as Penelope had named it.

Spencer just wanted the interview to end.

The host asked Derek a few questions and then Aaron one, but as he was unnerved by the glare he kept it short. Then he asked Emily a few more before the producer gave him the sign to round it up.

"Well, guys, it was a real pleasure to have you here. Before we end this I just want to ask about your concert tomorrow. It's your last one – are you going to do it like all the others or is there something different waiting for the ten thousands of fans coming to see you?"

"We're going to do a slightly longer show," Aaron said and the host swallowed nervously under his stare.

"And with that, our dear Hotch means that we have something of a surprise for our doting fans," Emily said in a chipper voice. "What this surprise is we won't tell though."

"And with that I think our time is up," the host said and smiled flirtatiously to Emily. "Thank you so much for coming here."

"You're welcome," Emily said as Aaron remained silent and Derek only grunted in reply. Spencer pushed out his chair and stood.

Emily caught up with him on his way out.

"Aren't you curious as to what the surprise is?" she asked as they were guided towards the entrance by one of their bodyguards.

"I thought it was something you and Aaron had come up with together," Spencer said without interest.

"Aaron finished the music," Emily said and Spencer halted.

"_What_?" he asked.

"The song is finished, and now the two of us are going back to my room and we're going to practice it so we can play it tomorrow night. And there is no way you're getting out of it otherwise I'll have to tell Derek you wrote it about him." Spencer stared at her in horror before glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening to their talk.

His heart dropped to his knees when he caught sight of Derek talking to some Latina wearing a headset and a very tight shirt.

"Fine," he hissed and started stomping after their bodyguard, some distant nephew of Rossi's.

He hated his life.

- In -

"I'm not going to do it," Spencer had told Emily before they went onto stage earlier.

"Of course you are," she had replied and left him as she walked determined up to the microphone stand. He had hated her a bit for knowing him so well and hurried out to his position on the left side of the stage and the show had started and he had struggled to make it through the first two songs without making mistakes because Emily would glance at him every few moments and nerves would wreck through his body.

When the last note of their third song rang out he stomped up to Emily and pulled her so far from the microphone that he was sure that the crowd wouldn't hear them.

"Stop _looking_ at me all the time," he hissed and glanced at Derek out of the corner of his eye. Both he and Aaron was looking at them in confusion.

"I'll try, but I really can't help myself," Emily said with a smirk and a wink. She patted his cheek and walked back to the stand and the show continued and Spencer's entrails were revolting and his stomach tried continously to escape out through his navel.

And it was a ridiculous thought as it was literally physically impossible for entrails to do things like that, but it still felt like it.

He almost stopped thinking during his solo in _Watch Me Rage_ but then the song ended and Aaron and Derek walked off the stage and a stage hand Spencer vaguely recalled was named Kevin handed him an acoustic guitar and another microphone stand was added next to Emily's in the front of the stage and Spencer remembered all too clearly what was really going to happen.

His heart tried to escape out through his throat.

"Hello everybody," Emily said into her microphone and the crowd roared. Spencer tried a few chords on his guitar to check its sound.

It sounded perfect.

"I don't know how to say this without sounding corny, but I really adore you guys." The crowd roared again and Spencer found it was much easier to look at them than out of the corner of his eye where he could just make out the waiting figures of Aaron and Derek watching him and Emily. "Spencer, tell them how much I adore them, will you?"

"She really does'," Spencer said and his eyes widened as a scream tore from the throats of thousands and thousands of teenage girls.

"I think they like you better than me," Emily said with a laugh and the teenage girls screamed again. "Aw! Girls, I'm not sure if you can see this on the big screen, but Spencer? He's blushing like virgin right now!" Spencer almost went deaf from the sound of the following scream. Then a bra almost hit him in the eye and he quickly shuffled behind Emily as a few more followed. "Girls," Emily scolded, "play nice, or Spencer will run off before we even get to begin our big surprise!"

The girls quietened and Spencer took a deep breath before stepping back to his microphone stand and ran his fingers over the strings of his guitar again, this time to calm his nerves. His heart was beating like he had just run twenty flights of stairs.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he told Emily quietly and she smiled to him and nodded.

"We mentioned in an interview yesterday that we had a bit of a surprise for you," she started and smiled to the crowds who hooted. "Spencer and I are going to perform a completely new song for you – we've never played it before."

"Never," Spencer agreed softly into his microphone and decided against saying more as the three front rows resumed screaming.

"Girls," Emily scolded. When they fell quiet again ans continued, "this is different from our usual stuff and by that I don't only mean that the sound is different. I didn't write this song which I usually do." Spencer froze in fear. "A very good friend of mine wrote this, but it doesn't mean that the emotion behind isn't just as honest and heartfelt than the feelings behind my songs." She gave Spencer a nod telling him to begin playing and he started the slow melody without thinking. "The song is called _Perfect_, I hope you'll like it."

"_The curve of his neck  
><em>_The sound of his voice_," Emily started softly and Spencer looked down on his guitar to hide his nerves.

"_To see him weak,  
><em>_To see him strong,  
><em>_Nothing is more important to me_," Emily sang.

"_Nothing is more precious_," they sang together

"_Because he is all I think of_," Emily ended alone. She smiled to Spencer who played the bridge. He couldn't see very far with the light shining so brightly in his eyes, but at least it looked like the first rows of fans seemed to enjoy their song.

"_The smile on his face_," Emily continued when Spencer ended the bridge and continued with the second verse.

"_The ache in my heart_," Spencer sang and ignored the girls screaming in the crowd.

"_He see me but  
><em>_He really don't_," Emily sang and looked to Spencer who took a quick breath before continuing.

"_Killing me not to be there with him,  
><em>"_Kills me that he doesn't love me_," he sang and tried to keep his voice from breaking. He couldn't believe they were doing this, singing his song for all the world to hear it. Singing Derek's song without even telling him it was his.

It felt like cheating.

"_Because he is all I think of_," Emily sang alone and grabbed the stand with both her hands,

"_My grip on him is slipping_," she sang with all her might as the pace picked up a bit.

"_Just like the grip on myself,  
><em>_"I thought I knew how to control this_," Spencer continued and tried to make his voice as powerful as hers,

"_But know I doubt my strength_," he continued and quietened the guitar before Emily drew a deep breath.

"_Because_," she belted at the top of her longs, the perfect note ringing out in the silence soon to the applaud of the crowd. Spencer felt a shiver run down his spine. He couldn't help it, but turned his head to look at the men standing hidden behind the big speakers.

"_To me you're perfect_," he sang as he looked into Derek's eyes.

He had to know it. Otherwise it would be cheating.

"_So peaceful in sleep,  
><em>_I dare not touch him,  
><em>_I love him but,_

_Will he return?_," Emily sang after Spencer resumed playing the soft notes on his guitar. He couldn't look away from Derek, searching his face for a reaction but the darkness obscured his features.

"_No one has taught me to win this fight,  
><em>_It kills me cause I have to_," Spencer sang, and he sang it for _him_, for Derek, and the guitar slipped from his numb fingers and fell down onto the floor with a crash when the first tear trailed down his cheek.

"_Because he is all I think of_," he thought he heard Emily sing but he didn't care because Derek had left the safety of his hiding place and was striding across the scene and then he was right next to Spencer and pulled him in for a forceful hug.

"I love you", he whispered into the crook of Derek's neck and he felt Derek's breath hitch in his hair and he didn't care if Derek didn't return his feelings or if he did, for the moment was perfect and the crowd was dead silent.

"Idiots," a voice said but it wasn't Derek because his lips was Spencer, bruising in their effort to convey his emotions and the crowd of fans were screaming, hollering, cheering, and jeering and Emily was laughing and Spencer didn't know what to do and just struggled to hold onto Derek, his hands clenching the fabric of his shirt desperately.

Derek kissed the tears off of Spencer's cheeks and everything was perfect.


End file.
